


HANS Free

by orphan_account



Category: NASCAR RPF
Genre: Crack Pairing, FML, I know this couple is weird but please roll with it, I've read literally two fics about this couple that weren't written by me, Jealousy, Jeff Gordon bashing, M/M, Protectiveness, Rare Pair, and one was a WIP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 14:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/688070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Gordon is a jealous schoolboy, Kyle is a neutered daredevil, and Junior is a particularly violent public service announcement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	HANS Free

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who doesn't know - a HANS device is a piece of safety equipment that hangs across a driver's shoulders and attaches to his/her helmet. In a crash, HANS prevents a driver's head from whipping forward. Some experts believe that use of the HANS device would have prevented Dale Earnhardt Sr.'s fatal injury. Ironically, Earnhardt Sr. was among the many NASCAR drivers that refused to wear it - yet in a direct reaction to his death, NASCAR made use of the device mandatory.
> 
> (cross-posted to fanficnation)

"Aw, little Shrubbie can't race without his safety equipment? What a good boy!"

" _Fuck you, Gordon!_ " Kyle yelled, shoving the older driver. "Just give me back my fucking HANS!"

Gordon raised his hands, shit-eating grin on his face. "I've got no idea where your HANS is, Busch."

"Bull _shit_ , Jeffrey," Kyle hissed. Gordon was always pulling this shit. When he'd climbed into his car to run a few practice laps only to discover his HANS device missing, he'd known immediately that Jeff Gordon was behind it.

Gordon's grin slid into a smirk. It was a look Kyle had never seen on the other man's face before, and it made him feel distinctly uncomfortable.

"C'mon, Kyle," Gordon cajoled, voice low and dark, almost...seductive? Kyle tensed. _What the hell?_ "You've never backed down from a challenge before. Just one lap - HANS free."

"No," Kyle replied, voice firm but expression wavering. "N-no. Give it back, Gordon, c'mon."

Jeff leaned in. One of his hands curled around Kyle's shoulder as his mouth hovered just beside his ear.

"What's wrong, Busch?" he whispered, breath tickling Kyle's ear. "You used to be lots of fun before you started hanging out with that legacy loser. Boyfriend got your balls?"

Kyle's eyes narrowed. "I would think you'd be a bit more respectful," Kyle growled. "Considering he's the _legacy_ of someone you knew very well, _Wonder Boy_."

Jeff leaned back, fire in his eyes as he opened his mouth to retort. Before he could, a loud _crack_ cut him off as said legacy brought a HANS device down on Gordon's skull from behind.

"Christ, Junior!" Jeff shouted, clutching at his head. A large lump was already swelling beneath his hair, a massive headache pounding through his skull. Junior had hadn't hit him hard enough to knock him unconscious - but only barely. Even Kyle looked a little disturbed by the show of violence.

"Get outta my way, Gordon," Junior said, voice flat. His usual go-lucky expression was now as hard as stone, his eyes like ice. The two men locked gazes, staring each other down before Jeff broke the eye-contact and slunk off, grumbling.

Junior turned his attention to Kyle and the younger driver tensed at the stormy expression. Junior's demeanor softened as he stepped closer and hung the HANS around Kyle's neck.

"Why didn't ya' deck him?" Junior asked as he took Kyle's helmet from his slack fingers and pulled it over Kyle's head.

Sliding up his visor, Kyle rolled his eyes. "I'm trying to be good this year, remember?" he huffed. "That's what you wanted, right?"

Junior finally cracked a small smile at his boyfriend's bitching as he went about securing the HANS. It immediately dropped off his face as he remembered the conversation he'd overheard, the hesitation in Kyle's expression.

"Were ya' gonna do it?" he questioned. He sounded hurt. "Were ya' gonna go a lap without your HANS?"

Kyle was quiet for a moment. "I wanted to," he finally admitted. Junior's frown deepened. "Wanted to prove to that son of a bitch that I was still tough. But I wouldn't have really done it, so stop acting so ass-hurt."

Junior fiddled with the straps of the safety device, remembering the deep sense of injustice he'd felt when he'd first been told that the unassuming chunk of plastic might have saved his father's life. Kyle had debuted in NASCAR after the devices were deemed mandatory - as far as he knew, Kyle had never raced on a NASCAR track without one.

Junior was going to keep it that way.

"I guess you've completely neutered me," Kyle suddenly spoke up, snapping Junior back into the present. The younger Busch looked genuinely upset.

Junior grinned, finally shaking off his anger. "Tell ya' what," he said, holding both sides of Kyle's helmet. "Next time Gordon tries to get into your pants, _you_ can deck him."

Kyle snorted, face flushing. "He was not!" he denied loudly.

"Was so!" Junior laughed, pushing down his jealousy. "He's been trying ever since ya' debuted! Why do ya' think he hates me so damn much now? He's been pullin' your pigtails for ages and I swooped you up like it was nothin'!"

A hard shove was Junior's only reply before Kyle climbed back into the #18 car.

"Whatever," the driver muttered, pushing down his visor to conceal the redness in his cheeks. It only made Junior laugh harder.

"Don't worry, Shrub!" Junior shouted, clutching his stomach as it began to ache from his mirth. "I'll protect yer honor!"

Kyle sneered and drove off, Junior's chuckles in his ears and the HANS device fastened securely across his shoulders.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
